THEN
January 29, 1967 – Sunday
Last
Thursday I got a job through the school scraping paint off a ladies roof. My
mother said the school had talked to her and set the price at $1.25 per
hour. This sounded pretty good so I accepted the job. I worked two hours
after school and when I talked to the lady she surprised me by saying “What
ever you think the job is worth I’ll pay”. At that point I was at quite a
loss for words. After a minute of stuttering and stammering, the price was
set at $1 per hour. I knew I’d made a mistake but being a stupid kid in
these matters, I didn’t know what to do. When I arrived home things really
went wrong. When my parents found out what had happened they nearly went
through the roof. For a while they were going to call the school and the
lady and raise a big fuss. By the next morning they had cooled off. I told
them I had agreed to the price so actually it was my fault.
I
finished the job that night and you can bet I’ll never work for her again.
You can also bet that I learned a lesson. When it comes to business, don’t
let good nature take advantage of you. You have to forget about what the
other person will think and demand what you think is right.
____________________
Pat told
me the other day that one of the C.A.P. officers molested him. He wouldn’t
tell me any details but it gives me the creeps. Pat actually didn’t seem too
upset about it and it doesn’t look like he’s going to say anything to anyone
about it. I don’t know what to do so I guess I shouldn’t say anything. I
don’t think anyone would believe me and I don’t think Pat is lying. I’m
starting to hate the whole Civil Air Patrol, military, marching thing. The
people seem strange.
